


Byleth's Top-Down Approach to Teaching

by ThrowHandsPetHambs



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Curses, Dorks in Love, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Gentle Sex, Hair-pulling, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Loss of Virginity, Loud Sex, Love Confessions, M/M, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Praise Kink, Riding, Seteth and Flayn's A-support spoilers, Seteth being unholy, Silver Snow Route, Smut, Sothis has left the chat, Spoilers for Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Tooth-Rotting Fluff, curse kink, do betad readers go to Valhalla?, mostly feelings, my beta reader shitposted all over my Google Docs send help, poor Seteth is touch starved, probably not, religious themes (minor), the beta reader is the real MVP, what the fuck is a plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-23
Updated: 2019-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-27 02:11:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20752613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThrowHandsPetHambs/pseuds/ThrowHandsPetHambs
Summary: "I… noticed I…" The professor sounded hesitant, his gaze now not meeting with Seteth's. "I really… liked being close to you. And I…" Seteth was certain his blush was no longer in his ears only, but this time reached his cheeks. The bright, pale green eyes now looked right at his own. "I want you to stay the night."Seteth finally realized he had been holding his breath, and let out a slightly shivering breath against the professors finger, still placed on his lips. "I… would love to…"--The professor is wounded in battle, and Seteth takes it upon himself to help him.





	Byleth's Top-Down Approach to Teaching

**Author's Note:**

> My friend was lamenting the lack of M/M Seteth, wondering if they have to do something to the issue themselves. I asked if they needed help, and here I am. 
> 
> Said friend also beta read this and provided me with multiple laughters, thank you fic co-parent <3

It was supposed to be an ordinary bandit cleanup, but somewhere amidst the ruckus, the professor suffered a large wound to his leg. The wound was tended to with white magic, of course, but it still hurt, a lot, and for the next battle, Byleth decided it wiser to opt out.

This of course worried Seteth, who was prone to worrying. But with how important the professor was to the Resistance, Seteth was even more concerned about his safety and wellbeing.

"I shall carry you back to your room, professor", he stated. "And I will not take no for an answer. You clearly cannot walk in this state." He squinted his brow and shook his head lightly.

He didn't waste time listening to possibly protests, picked the younger man up with ease and propped him against his chest, one hand under Byleth's knees and the other supporting his back. 

By now Seteth knew how to read the professor's expressions, at least to some extent, and he was certain the younger man looked surprised when he was picked up, despite Seteth telling him what he was planning to do. He wasn't sure, but Seteth thought he saw a hint of a smile on those stoic lips when their owner was being held to the older man's chest. Could be his imagination, could be the professor pleased he won't need to walk, or any number of things, really. But maybe, just maybe, their stoic leader found it plasant being close to Seteth like this.

Before his thoughts should begin to drift, the church's right hand picked up his pace, and soon reached the monastery gates. Their bandit mission had been nearby the southern gates after all, so walking was a viable means getting back. 

It was quiet during this time of the day, so not many curious eyes were there to disturb their walk, just a few merchants and, of course, the always reliable gatekeeper. 

Byleth tugged at Seteth's sleeve, to let him know he wanted to exchange a few words with the guard. The two of them seemed to chit chat quite often, so it was perhaps natural the professor wished to update the guard on the situation. The gatekeeper expressed his gratitude for looking after the professor, and soon the green haired pair was able to continue their walk to the dorms.

The professor's room was the furthest north of the rooms, but it was on the first floor, so not too big of a hassle to reach. Seteth turned himself slightly so he could use his elbow to turn the door handles, which he did with ease, and before long he had gently placed the professor on his bed.

Byleth seemed tired as he uttered his thanks. Seteth didn't want to think how exhausted the professor would be if he had needed to get here on his own, or if his students would have had to carry him. They would have handled it, sure, but how well without damaging the wounded leg even more, or without fighting over who gets to do it. All the students were so eager to help their professor, despite them all being supposedly grown adults already, and the title of 'Professor' perhaps a formality by now.

"If there is anything you would need done, just ask", Seteth responded to the thanks with a soft smile, warmth in his eyes as he gazed on the younger man. "How does a cup of tea sound?"

Judging by the way the corners of the professor's mouth turned upwards, the suggestion was well received. An affirming nod followed, and with a nod of his own, Seteth left the room to get everything he needed.

He didn't think he was gone that long, but by the time Seteth got back with his tray, with a pot of freshly brewed tea, two teacups, and some baked goodies, the professor had fallen asleep.

The church's right hand man let the door close behind him, set his tray on the wooden desk, and sat on the edge of the bed. 

"I guess you were pretty worn out after all", he spoke softly, a gentle smile on his lips, eyes fixed on the man sleeping. 

He spoke perhaps to see if the professor really had dozed off, or perhaps to fill the silence, only filled with slow, relaxed breathing.

Byleth was sleeping on his back, one hand on top of his stomach, the other lazily by his side, the wounded leg flat on the bed and the other's knee slightly bent, thus the leg a bit lifted, with his head slightly tilted, and mouth the tiniest bit ajar, as it seemed he was breathing through his mouth. He wasn’t sure, but the taller man thought he heard a faint snoring, which made him let out a small chuckle.

Seteth spent perhaps a bit too long looking at the sleeping professor's mouth, and he could feel his ears heat up. This was exactly why he didn't want to spend too long a time thinking of the whole situation as the professor was in his arms, but now… Now it seemed like it was alright to let his mind wander. 

How Byleth felt light in his arms, what his warmth felt like pressed against Seteth's chest, how he could feel the younger man's own chest moving with his breathing, and how natural it all felt, holding another person close like that. He hadn't thought about it much before this, it seemed, but now he realized how much he missed holding someone close like that regularly. 

It's not like he was deprived of touch and affection. After all, he had Flayn and Rhea, even if the latter didn't express the love for her brother in the form of hugs much, but those were different. They were his family. 

Sure, Byleth counted as his kin, sort of, but… Something felt different in all of that. Despite being fused with Sothis, Byleth was his own person, an individual. Not the second coming of the mother they had lost, all those centuries ago. This was a young man, a colleague, a friend. 

What he missed…was having someone to call his own, in the romantic sense of the word. And these thoughts were exactly what he had wanted to avoid. 

Perhaps a relief, perhaps not, a noise pulled Seteth from his thoughts. The professor tried turning to his side, but let out a small whine, as his wounded leg moved and seemed to cause him pain. 

Byleth opened his eyes, his sleepy gaze meeting Seteth's worried one.

"Ah, you're awake", the older man spoke as the professor rubbed his eyes and sat up slightly. "I did not intend to awaken you, since you seemed tired. How are you feeling?"

"It still hurts", Byleth began, his voice raspy and gravely from sleep. A shiver creeped down Seteth's spine. "I didn't realize I was that tired. Sorry for falling asleep on you."

His words got a warm, understanding smile from the older man, still sitting on the side of the bed. "If you wish to sleep more, I will not disturb you."

Byleth shook his head, and responded with a smile of his own. "I'd prefer your company", he spoke, warmth in his eyes, and Seteth swore in his mind he would follow that smile to the edge of the world. Well, perhaps not, if the professor suddenly decided to oppose the Church and the Saints but… That seemed unlikely at this point. Byleth had not faltered in his decision to join Seteth and form the Resistance Army. 

"So how about that tea then? That is a good excuse to keep you company, is it not?" Seteth asked, hoping he didn't sound too enthusiastic. It wasn't that rare to get to spend time alone with the rebellion's leader, after all, serving as his assistant and whatnot.  


They had a somewhat ordinary tea time, the difference being that this time, Seteth would stick around after. He usually quickly left to tend to various tasks, busy man as he was. This time, he would stay as long as the professor wished, and quite honestly, Seteth hoped he wouldn't be dismissed any time soon. 

He enjoyed spending time with the professor, not unlike everyone else at the monastery. So perhaps he was being selfish, hogging the professor all to himself like this. Sure, originally he took upon himself to carry Byleth to his dorm to make sure the younger man wouldn't strain himself unneeded; but right now, that task carried out, he could let the former students visit their beloved professor. Or perhaps they wished to let their leader rest, so no-one would be too envious of this time he got to steal from Byleth. He didn't really think of his own tasks; he could tend to them later. But now, it was him and the professor. Nothing mattered as much as the latter's wish to have Seteth stick around.

After they finished their drinks and pastries, Seteth collected the empty teacups and placed them on the tray, awaiting for him to pick up as he'd eventually leave. Then, he seated himself back to the edge of the bed. 

Byleth frowned as he leaned his chin against his raised hand, pondersome. "I just realized I was still fully dressed as I slept." He looked back up to Seteth, letting his hands fall back to his lap. "But I wouldn't want to shoo you away with my changing to my lounge wear."

Seteth let out a small chuckle. "Do not let me stop you, Professor. You need not be all proper just for my sake." 

He stood up to give Byleth space and continued: "I can fetch your clothes for you if you would like, as your leg seems to still give you some trouble."

"Oh, right", the younger man responded, "I didn't even think about that." He looked up at his friend, now looming over him as he had stood up. "I guess I'm not used to being wounded, or even ill." 

Byleth then told the other man which drawer to look for, and soon enough Seteth handed the professor his gray jersey and shorts, the rebellion's symbol, the Crest of Flames, donning the breast pocket. And without a drop of bashfulness, the professor started to undress, paying no mind to his company whatsoever. 

Seteth tried to remain casual, and remember the professor wasn't as aware of social code as most. But that nonchalant way to undress in the company of another, was somewhat intriguing. Mesmerizing, almost. And before long the older man realized he was staring, yet unable to turn his head away, despite the warmth creeping to his ears.

The professor was in good shape. Not too bulky, not too lean, not too, what was it some students said about some of the monastery cats… chonky. His skin smooth and soft looking, almost inviting to be touched, battle scars of old and new littered here and there. Seteth felt a pang of shame in his thoughts, feeling like he's betraying his friend's trust with impure feelings like this, when the professor was just changing his clothes, nothing more. 

Nevertheless, it seemed Byleth either didn’t notice the piercing eyes on him, or simply didn’t care. The shirtless teacher discarded his jacket on the floor and slipped his comfortable casual shirt on, before moving on to his shoes and pants.

Byleth placed his shoes on the floor next to the bed, and started unbuckling. He moved his legs cautiously, trying to not cause himself unnecessary pain. 

Seteth started to wonder if he should offer his help but realized that might have been a bad idea, given the way he caught himself staring. Combined to that, if the professor had noticed that, it might give off the wrong idea. Goodness, Seteth hadn't even known himself to be capable of having these ideas, so the last thing he wanted to do was make Byleth think the help he had been offered was just a coy to get a little cop-a-feel.

His attention was drawn soon enough by the bare legs, and the wound, still slightly visible on the professors shin, as a reddish mark, not quite an open wound, and not a scar either. It had been _ healed _ yes, but the cut was quite deep, so it would need some time before the professor could return to the battlefield. A few days of rest and white magic should be enough, the assistant pondered. Reluctantly, he had to admit that asking Manuela’s opinion might be in order, since as a professional healer she had the best insight on such matters, both when the wound was healed enough, and how to ease the process and pain. 

"It is quite a relief your injury is not worse", he said, and seemingly caught the professor off guard. "My apologies, I didn't mean to–" His sentence was cut off by Byleth shaking his head.

"It's all right. You were worried about me, so of course you'd want to see it", the younger of the two rationalized, before tossing his trousers in a pile with the rest of his clothes. 

Seteth was, to tell the truth, horrified of the carefree way their leader was treating his belongings, but felt like it was not his place to intrude on the way the professor, a grown man, lived his life. The temptation to nag, no, _ gently instruct _the former mercenary was great, but the taller man carefully pushed his perfectionist urges aside. 

His focus again on the present moment, instead of things he thought needing attending, the older man couldn't help but notice Byleth hadn't yet put on his casual shorts. He opened his mouth to ask about it, but as he turned his attention from the bare legs back to his companions face, he was startled with those intense green eyes looking back at him.

"Professor", he started, but was silenced by a finger placed on his lips.

"I noticed something", Byleth uttered, rather quiet, stoic as always, in a tone Seteth wasn't able to read. The words made the latter’s heart skip a beat, as he was anxious to hear the rest. 

That he was staring? That he was being creepy? The silence was long enough for the chronic overthinker to do what he did best.

"I… noticed I…" The professor sounded hesitant, his gaze now not meeting with Seteth's. "I really… liked being close to you. And I…" Seteth was certain his blush was no longer in his ears only, but this time reached his cheeks. The bright, pale green eyes now looked right at his own. "I want you to stay the night." 

Seteth finally realized he had been holding his breath, and let out a slightly shivering breath against the professors finger, still placed on his lips. "I… would love to…" he mumbled as the lone finger moved away from his mouth. The professor sat up, and the same hand from before found its place on his guests cheek now. 

Thoughts were swirling in the taller man's head. Was that his heart, beating fast? Oh, so fast. Was he again staring at Byleth's lips? Wait, were they coming closer? 

Half closed eyelids, a hot breath on his face, and then soft lips, touching his own, meeting him curious, careful, as if asking a question, and hands cupping his cheeks. A kiss so gentle, so… loving. Goddess, how long had it been since he was kissed like this? Or at all? 

Seteth tried to respond with the same gentleness, but he had a hunger that tried to overtake this first encounter of newly acquainted lips, and he had to keep himself in check with all his willpower, so he wouldn't just devour the affection he was suddenly and quite unexpectedly given. 

He hadn’t realized how badly he needed this. A gentle hand on his touch starved face, another pair of lips on his own, a shared moment of intimacy and caring for the other person.

He wanted to cherish this, enjoy every moment of it. Not to say you couldn't cherish and enjoy devouring kisses as well, but Seteth wanted to believe there would be a time for those later. He yearned for there to be another serving of this attention, craved it.

Perhaps neither of them noticed how long this first kiss took, since when they finally pulled away, both were out of breath, a blush lingering on both their faces.

Byleth was the first to finally break the silence, which wasn't long, but felt like it nonetheless. "You're a really good kisser, know that?" 

The words made Seteth flush an even deeper red. He wanted to pull his gaze away, but felt drawn in by those bright eyes in front of him, which in this moment felt like they were piercing right into his soul. 

He stuttered a bit but finally got out a thank you, which made the professors mouth corners creep up once more. 

"How are you so damn adorable?" the younger man uttered while stroking his companions cheek gently. "Why did it take me so long to realize this?"

_ Adorable? _ The latter comment felt like… What did it feel like? Oh wow, it had been a while since Seteth found himself at a lack of words to describe his feelings. He uttered in response a baffled "Professor", before being pulled into a new kiss, this time more eager.

The eagerness turned to sloppiness, a display of freshly awakened passion. Who would have known at the beginning of the day that this is where the two of them would end up? Had this been lying dormant, all this time, with the hit of a bandit acting as a catalyst to finally burst it free? Seteth did not know, and honestly, he did not care. All that mattered were those eager, hungry lips and the tongue now exploring his mouth, reciprocating his feelings of eagerness. 

They broke off to catch their breaths, and suddenly Seteth felt himself being pulled down. 

Byleth was laying back down on the bed, pulling the older man with him, on top of him, and the surprise made the latter almost collapse on top of the professor. And soon he was pulled into yet another kiss, the professors hands in his hair, pulling ever so slightly.

Seteth surprised himself when a light moan escaped from his mouth into the professor's. He was pretty sure the younger man also heard it, since he felt a slight pull on his hair again, this time more controlled, more deliberate. 

He sighed out "Professor" against Byleth's lips, his voice betraying the hunger for more, his usually collected demeanor now far from it.

"Say my name", the younger man commanded, in a husky, deep voice, that made shivers travel down the assistant's spine once again, fingers still tangled in the dark green hair on Seteth's neck.

"Byleth", he sighed, quickly being rewarded with a _ hard _ pull of his hair. "Byleth!" he moaned, louder now, but not louder than a regular speaking voice. 

This seemed to satisfy the professor, as his lips again found their place on Seteth's, and the older of them could feel his face burning. 

When they broke off from the kiss, the professor asked: "We aren't moving too fast, are we?" His piercing, sincere eyes were staring right at Seteth. "I want to make sure you're feeling good." 

Seteth was sure his face was a full flush by now, thanks to both their actions, and the professor's words – caring, genuine… _ loving _. 

"N-no, not too fast at all", he stuttered. "Th-thank you. I am… I feel…" The man laying underneath him patiently awaited for him to finish. "I feel cared for, and…" A soft, loving smile spread across Seteth's face as he looked down at his friend. "I am really enjoying this."

His smile was mirrored on the younger man's face, who then proceeded to stroke his cheek. Seteth allowed himself to lean against it. "I'm really enjoying myself too." 

No wonder the professor could get allies so easily, being so caring and attentive. But being able to hog his attention all for himself? Seteth couldn't help but feel a tiny bit smug about it. Especially given the context of the one-on-one time. Goodness, this made him feel so young and carefree. 

The leaning of the assistant’s head against the offered hand made one of his pointy ears visible, as the hair usually covering it moved. He was taken by surprise when he heard an enamored gasp. 

“Seteth!” the shorter man said, a smile on his lips, so wide that perhaps even someone less experienced with the professor’s stoicness could have picked up. This was very surprising, but also intriguing. What in the world made the man underneath him react in such a way?

“Your ears”, the younger man’s joyful voice noted. 

Seteth flinched, surprise now very visible on his face. “What of them?” he hastily inquired.

“They’re pointy”, Byleth stated, a smile on his lips, one the draconic man wasn’t fully able to decipher the nuances of. “They're so cute!” 

These words were unexpected. So much so that a baffled “I-I beg your pardon?” was uttered. Seteth had been hiding his unusual ears so well this far, hadn’t he? No human had before pointed them out. So they hadn’t been noticed, right? 

The worry was very obvious on the assistant face, and the leader reassured his companion, his voice gentle, soothing. “Don’t worry, I’m not telling anyone.” The smile on shorter man’s lips turned into a more coy one, accompanied by his tone turning whispery as he continued: “It’ll be our secret.” 

Seteth was staring at the man underneath him, eyes wide and mouth open from surprise. It took him some time to process what had been said, but when he finally put all the pieces together, his eyelids closed, his head drooped, and a relieved sigh let the rest of the tension leave him. 

“Goodness. Byleth, my apologies”, the older man spoke as he lifted his head and opened his eyes to look into his friend’s eyes again. “You really startled me, this…was such an unexpected remark.” 

The initial shock of being found out now lifted, he was able to process what had been said to him. The professor…said his pointy ears were cute. And earlier…he'd been called adorable. A rush of warmth swept on the dark haired man’s face once again, and his lips turned to a baffled smile. The compliments felt…nice. He let out a giggle, and planted a soft kiss on his host’s lips. They both were smiling into the kiss, which made Seteth’s heart flutter.**   
**

Suddenly, the professor realized something; an important detail that somehow had slipped his mind, and he broke free from the kiss by pushing his partner slightly upward. “The door”, he started, “It’s unlocked.” 

To Seteth it felt like his heart had jumped to his throat, the realization hitting him like a giant axe. Goddess, he has glad no-one had barged in. The professor, wearing only his jersey and socks, laying on the bed with the right hand man of the Church of Seiros on top of him, both hot and heavy from their make-out session... 

The assistant lifted himself up and practically sprinted to the double doors, swiftly locking them, silence falling between the two men as the operation took place.

The room now secured from possible interruptions, Seteth hastily got back on the bed. His cheeks were burning. He didn’t want to think of the possibilities of someone just barging in to present questions or what-nots to the rebellion’s leader, or a worried student checking on their old professor and how his leg was doing. He was glad Byleth realized this when he did, possibly preventing a disaster. What if they had been… 

Oh no, Seteth really didn’t want his thoughts to continue on the path they had now taken. 

All this overthinking had happened with lots of expertise on such dwellings, so practically no time had passed between him climbing back on the bed, and the motion that snapped him back into reality. 

A hand was placed on his cheek, the movement towards his face, and the following gentle caresses enough to pull him back to the present moment. 

“That’s that”, Byleth said. A smirk found its way on the shorter man’s lips as he continued, stating, rather than asking: “Now where were we.”**   
**

The assistant was now pulled, this time in the literal sense, down towards his companion, and he gladly followed the latter’s lead. They kissed again, the final hints of anxiousness because of the door lifting. 

Their breaths became heavy once more, as their tongues began their dance once again. Tangled with each other, wandering, exploring, as if they were both making mental maps of each other's mouths. One of the professor’s hands cupped his cheek, the other holding onto his bicep.

Then the hand on Seteth’s cheek moved down his neck, over his collarbones, to rest on his chest, alongside its pair, no longer gripping his sleeve. This made the older man gasp for air and break their kiss, his eyes still closed.

"I'm feeling a bit…overdressed", uttered the husky voice underneath him, while the hands fiddled with the fabric of his clothes. 

"I have to admit it is… rather warm in here", Seteth responded, playfulness in his voice, his chest rising and falling slowly with his deep breaths. He was surprised and a bit embarrassed with how lustful he sounded all of a sudden, and hoped his voice hadn't given too much away. 

The green light had been given, and the hands on his chest started working with the buttons and straps of his clothes, exploring and taking everything in, before letting the fabric slide off the wearer, revealing a toned upper body, one with experience in handling weapons and controlling wyverns, it too covered in faded scars, memorabilia from time far, far away. 

The air felt cool against his skin, a sensation the assistant welcomed with joy. Soon his shirt laid abandoned on the floor, eager hands touching all over the now bare chest and arms, fingers digging into his dark green chest hair. 

A shaky breath escaped from Seteth's mouth and he closed his eyes, taking in the sensations. He could hear Byleth was breathing heavily. As the professors hands brushed over his perked nipples, Seteth let out a quiet whimper, which Byleth took as an invitation to focus more on them, playing with the pink nubs, his actions rewarded with more quiet sounds of pleasure. 

The professors hands wandered lower, to gently slide over his companion's stomach, feeling the soft and warm skin, and an anticipating whine escaped Seteth's mouth. 

"Byleth, I–" he began, ready to explain that he didn't want to force the professor to move any further than he wanted, no matter how much the older man seemed to want more, but his sentence was cut short with a hungry mouth pressed against his own. 

Maybe he shouldn't worry so much, for once. The professor seemed just as eager as him, perhaps even more so, since it was Byleth who had made the first move. It felt good to have someone take the lead, and just follow, so perhaps he should just let himself to be… well, lead. And just take what was given to him. All of this felt so good and so right, so why try to stop or hold back?

And like the natural leader he was, the professor continued to lead, his hands wandering further down on Seteth's stomach, all the way to the hem of his trousers. Two thumbs slid between the outer fabric and that of his underwear, and started pulling down. 

They had to break the kiss now, as the professor lifted his upper body to follow his hands, in order to extend their reach to further slide the offending trousers off. His gaze felt more piercing than usual, as his eyes were fixed on the now revealed underwear, and Seteth let out another shaky breath. 

The assistant had to lift himself up from his position on top of the professor, as the hands that had leaned on the bed to support his weight now needed to aid in removing his trousers altogether, alongside his shoes. Soon they too lay abandoned on the floor, further extending the clothing chaos the professor had in his room. And right now, Seteth didn’t care about the mess, at least much. 

He was now kneeling above Byleth, legs on either side of the man, and the professor used this opportunity to admire the sight before him, as it wasn't often he got to see his guest without his trusted turtleneck. His neck, his collarbone, his biceps**,** his toned chest and the hair covering it, his stomach, this thin line of green hair going from his navel down to underneath his trousers, to the place that was clearly bulging now, trapped by the fabric and desperate to be freed. 

Somewhere during these moments that felt slow, as if time itself was not in a hurry, Seteth had turned back towards the man laying down on the bed, and was very much aware of how and where those eyes lingered. His breath was shaking again, and he could feel his blood rushing in his ears, his cheeks, and in his nether regions, as the sightseeing tour got lower and lower. He hadn't been paying attention to what had been going on inside his underwear all this time, but right now he became very much aware of his throbbing member desperate for attention. 

"You look so handsome", the professor spoke, his voice husky with lust once again, his eyes now looking right at Seteth's face, eager to meet his eyes. Byleth’s eyes were so sincere, looking like he could never in his life tell a lie. Seteth didn't know how truthful this sentiment was, but that's how he felt, looking into that light green, like two pools of green tea in midday sunlight. 

"You are not too shabby yourself", the older man responded with an impish smirk on his lips, before letting out a hearty chuckle. It felt so good to receive compliments like this. Combined with the overall attention he was getting, Seteth was surprised at how calm and collected his voice sounded, able to joke around like this even. His expression softened and smile widened. "No, I think you are very handsome as well. Extremely so."

The professor reached to grab Seteth's arms and started pulling him downwards. "Let's not exaggerate, shall we?" His lips were curved into a smile as well, his tone hinting towards a jest. It seemed he liked being complimented, despite trying to shrug it off. Perhaps Byleth joked like this since he expected Seteth to be able to read him, and to know the subtle changes in his usually stoic demeanor. Or perhaps the former mercenary just wasn’t used to praise such as this.

When the assistant was getting closer to the man laying on his back, one of the hands leading his placed itself on his neck, the one remaining on the older man's wrist leading it to his stomach, underneath the casual shirt he was wearing, making the hem lift and reveal more skin underneath.

"Now I wonder why I even put this thing om", Byleth mused, not so subtly hinting towards removal of the shirt altogether. 

And who was Seteth to complain or disobey? He slid his hands along the soft skin, lifting the fabric as he did. It felt tempting to just focus on touching the man underneath him just as he'd touched Seteth earlier, but, really, the jersey had to go. He also wanted to see the bare skin, not just touch it. 

Seteth hoped to slide his hands over the professors nipples to see his reaction, but the younger man raised his upper body and hands to let the shirt slide off, so the assistant's hands missed their mark. He didn't spend too long lamenting though, since soon the garment was off, carelessly discarded on the floor, now nothing stopping the saint in hiding from admiring the full glory of the teacher's bare upper body.

With hunger in his eyes, Seteth allowed his hands finally wander. His breath was heavy, but so was the professor's, and he could hear the younger man gasping slightly at times as his hands roamed, shivers accompanying them, visible to the assistant's eyes. 

"Seteth…" the professor sighed and as a response got a choked, quiet moan, before their lips met once again. 

Both let their hands wander, on chests, stomachs, arms, necks, the kiss paused ever so often thanks to gasps and moans, but afterwards picked up once again, both men wanting more. Tongues wandering, hot breaths on each others’ faces, Seteth's heartbeat, fast and loud, and Byleth's fingers tangled in the dark green hair on his partner's neck. 

A quiet cuss escaped Seteth's lips, so quiet he wasn't certain it was heard, or even if it really was his voice that uttered it. Soon it become apparent, when their lips were parted and he was jerked a bit upwards by his hair, eliciting a groan, so the professor could study his face.

"Did you just… curse?" the younger man asked, amusement and arousal in his voice. Arousal from the overall situation perhaps, or from hearing a holy man resort to unholy words.

And Seteth couldn't bring himself to lie to his companion, despite embarrassment filling him, guilt gnawing at him. "Yes. I did." He didn’t want Byleth to pick on the shame he felt, but it seemed he was preoccupied with his own thoughts.

"Fuck, that's hot", the professor responded, his speech almost a whisper in the eagerness it was uttered, his lips now reaching to lay delicious kisses on Seteth's neck.

The shorter man had raised his body upwards so his wet, sloppy kisses reached their intended goal, and his efforts were rewarded with a surprised moan. The assistant leaned forward so his lover could once more lay on his back, but still continue to kiss the sensitive skin of the saint's neck. A desperate sound resonated near the teacher’s ear and dared him to nibble ever so slightly. 

The teeth, gently gnawing at his skin and occasionally biting down, the fingers pulling the hair on the back of his head, and the hand now grabbing his side – it felt like electricity on Seteth's skin, and his outward breaths had turned into moans and whines. Byleth's breath was so hot and heavy against his bare, sensitive skin, and his embarrassment faded from his mind. 

Seteth's hands had now settled on the mattress to support himself, so he wouldn't completely collapse on top of the man underneath him, his fingers gripping the sheet, shivers running down his bare back.

Another cuss escaped his lips, and then a moan when teeth sank into his skin, to mark him, claim him. Apparently this time he wasn’t allowed to dwell on it, and maybe better so. 

"Seteth", the professor groaned against his neck, wet from his kisses. "F-fuck, how are you so…" He interrupted himself to plant a gentle kiss on the skin, now red and bruised from his gnawing. "How are you so fucking hot when you curse?"

The assistant let out a groan as the words his partner uttered made him shiver once again. His cheeks were burning, from both shame for the words leaving his lips and arousal from their actions. He then responded, out of breath, without even thinking: "How are you making me…" 

He paused to inhale. How had he not paid notice to the younger man’s scent before now? It was hard to describe, yet intoxicating, so much so he forgot himself to just breathe in the aroma. 

"I'm making you, what exactly", the professor spoke out teasingly, while he let his hands roam on Seteth's back. The latter loved the sensation, not realizing how touch deprived his back had been. Actually, perhaps his whole body had been touch deprived. Now his neglected nether regions screamed for more. 

"Ah, sorry, I lost my train of thought", Seteth breathed out and and nuzzled the crook of the professor's neck for a bit before continuing. He hadn't yet finished the thought the younger man was intrigued by. "You smell so delightful and… your hands on my back - it all feels so good, I…" He inhaled, let out a shaky breath, took another deep breath in and finished this second train of thought, before that too was lost in the moment. "It feels so good, I just wish to stay here…perhaps forever."

The professor chuckled, his chest shaking as he did, his shoulders moving up and down in a way Seteth had to lift his head from where it had rested, and finally face his friend's intent eyes once again. "I'm not in a hurry", Byleth spoke, a soft smile on his face, a heavy blush visible in the dimming evening light. "Please", he begun, and that word made the assistant shudder again. "Stay as long as you'd like." 

"Thank you, Professor", the older man began before correcting himself. "Byleth. My apologies, force of habit." He smiled softly at the man laying underneath him, and gently stroked his cheek with one hand, supporting his weight with the other. 

"What I said earlier, and left unfinished…" he mused then, eyes fixed on his fingers moving back and forth on Byleth's warm cheek. "I…" He hesitated. He couldn't stand looking at the younger man, so he turned his head away, and closed his eyes. "I was going to ask… How is it you're…" His voice trailed off, and he cleared his throat. He had to get this out, it would bother him not to say it, and he was sure Byleth would want to dig it out. Well, maybe not, but, it was a possibility, and he'd rather let it out now, than at a completely wrong moment. 

He finally spoke, voice suddenly deep and husky with arousal. "How are you making me so fucking horny?" The curse almost like a yelled whisper, clearly audible but almost out of breath, further amplifying his point. 

He'd actually said it! This was so embarrassing! He wasn’t used to losing control like this, and the harsh words forcing themselves out from his mouth made him feel… conflicted. On one hand, it felt wrong, uttering these words, him, a man of faith, and yet, at the same time it felt…freeing. 

He received a shaky moan from underneath him as a response, as well as his body reminding him just how turned on he indeed was. The throbbing inside his pants was almost painful, his body craving – no, _ needing _ the other man. 

"I could ask you the same thing, Seteth", the professor breathed out, and the way he said his name made Seteth's dick twitch. 

"Ah, fuck, we really should get on with it, shouldn't we?" the younger man asked then, shaking slightly from anticipation. His words made the saint groan, his hands gripping the sheet, nails digging into the fabric. This was happening. This was really happening. 

Unbelievably flustered, Seteth couldn't bring himself to face the professor, instead his eyes shut close and his brow furrowed. His cheeks and ears were burning, his heart was thumping, his dick was throbbing. His mind was filled with a row of repeated curses, in a desperate, and ironic, attempt to set his thoughts back on track again. 

But, fuck, it was hard, and so was he. Goddess save him, he was suddenly very, very aware of his pulsating erection, his body screaming, begging to be touched, feeling raw _ need _. The saint felt like he was at his wits end, and something had to happen, something physical, right now, lest he lose his mind. 

"Yes", he whimpered. "Please, Byleth, please…" His voice was desperate, and it almost sounded like a sob. "Touch me", Seteth begged. "Fuck me", he yelped. "Byleth!" he cried out again. His knuckles were white, hands still holding onto the sheet. 

The way Seteth let all those words out and what he was saying, it made the professor shiver. A queue of whines, moans and cusses escaped his lips. This had been going on too long hasn't it? For the both of them. But it felt so good, all of the anticipation and want building up. And the release, Byleth hypothesised, would be even better yet. And the way Seteth was slowly opening up to him, to what they were up to, it made it even better.

"Top drawer", he breathed out, shaking. "Thismost corner." 

It wasn't hard to guess what the contents were, and it didn't take long for Seteth to do as he was told. He had to admit to himself, being bossed around like this felt good. So good. At this exact moment, he would have been fine with being told to do anything. Oh, Goddess, he really _ would _ do anything Byleth asked. Right now, it was simply grabbing the lubricant from its hiding spot. 

Even in his lustful haze, Seteth pondered what was it that made the professor have such a thing so readily available. Goodness, was half of the monastery after this man, and was the one who got to steal his time this evening none other than the rebellion’s right hand man? 

Bottle in hand, the older man climbed back on the bed, now somewhat hesitant. 

"How… How do we want to go about this?" he asked cautiously, cheeks burning. "I-I am–" he began, and a soothing hand found its way on his face. Seteth closed his eyes, finding comfort in not having to look at anything. 

“I have not…” he continued, voice faint and soft. “Ever done this with…" The hand on his cheek now soothingly stroking it, assuring him there was nothing to fear. He couldn't help but lean into the touch, not unlike one of the monastery cats would. 

"Do you remember", the professor began, "what you asked of me?" His voice was soft and gentle, yet firm. Soft like he cared deeply about who he was talking to, a thought that made Seteth's heart skip a beat, and firm like someone who knew what he wanted. Like, well, a teacher, guiding his student.

To think… that he, a thousand or however year old (he had lost count by now) draconic being, one of the Goddess' children, felt like the student of this somewhat-of-a-mortal man. Perhaps a formerly mortal one, now ageless as he was. Nonetheless, someone who had seen a fraction of moons as he had seen, now guiding him like it was the most natural order of things. And it felt… good. So right. Natural, even. Almost as if it was meant to be. 

"Tell me", Seteth breathed out and planted a kiss on the gentle hand of his lover. 

Byleth sat up, and guided the saint to lean closer. The latter slightly on top of the former, eyes meeting with the familiar pools of light green. Seteth's own eyes no doubt filled with lust and anticipation, expecting to hear the answer, to repeat what he had said, and what now had escaped from his overheated mind.

He could feel the professor's breath on his lips, hot, smelling faintly of the tea and pastries from oh so long ago, it felt.

"You asked me", the younger man begun, softly, a meaningful, heavy silence between his words. The wait was aggravating, but also so, so hot. "…to fuck you", the professor finished his sentence, his voice a breathy rasp, not much louder than a whisper. 

Hearing those words come out of the professor's mouth made Seteth close his eyes again and let out a moan, loudest this far. The throbbing was near intrusive now.

He heard Byleth gasp at the sound, and then a hearty chuckle. "Oh, fuck, Seteth…" the younger man whined, his voice so full of lust, it almost oozed out of the words uttered, and was rewarded with a whimper from Seteth, his lust mirroring that of the rebellion's leader. 

"Byleth…" he cried and placed a sloppy kiss on the younger man’s lips. "I am ready." He gasped for air. "I am so ready."  


They kissed once more, sloppy, hungry, hasty. Both men wanted to move to the next phase, but taking the leap required courage, which neither of them seemed to have enough of yet, in all their time together this heated evening.

Finally, Byleth von Balls of Steel was ready to make the jump. He placed his hands on his lover's sides, gently stroking them for a moment, before sliding his hands down, underneath the final layer of clothing, constricting the saint's… divinity, as Byleth humorously said to himself in his head. He gently lifted the fabric from on top of the taller man’s erection, and was rewarded with a relieved sigh as the pressure of the garment was lifted. 

The final piece of fabric holding back Seteth's cock now thrown aside on the floor, the professor could at long last admire it. He was biting his lower lip as he let his eyes wander, from tip to base, back and forth. 

The cool air felt good against his throbbing member. The eyes studying it, on the other hand, made the church's right hand man let out a whimper, as if already being touched. And the professor was really taking his time too. But… even if it forced him to wait longer, it felt… Nice to be ogled like this. It made Seteth feel… appreciated, somehow. 

And after what felt like an eternity, Byleth finally raised his gaze to look into his companion's eyes. "I don't know if this is a strange thing to say", he begun, voice raspy and tone soft and tender, "but I… think you have a lovely…" His voice faded and the saint was certain the shorter man was blushing deeper once again as the latter turned his head away, a sly yet timid smile on his lips, the sentence left unfinished, but understood.

"Thank you", the older man whispered back, intending to speak but his voice failing him. "I… I would like to…" he began, his voice now finding its way to his vocal chords once more, but now his courage was failing him. He felt like a timid, horny teenager again, anxiety preventing him from finishing his sentences. However, it was a good kind of anxiety. 

His intent was understood nonetheless, and Byleth nodded. Seteth stood up so he was no longer in the way, as the teacher removed his underwear, minding his still wounded leg, managing to complete the task even so. 

With a quick flick of the wrist those also flew to the side. Byleth straightened his legs back down on the bed, and his guest gasped ever so slightly at the sight of still unfamiliar inches, yet untouched by the beholder. 

Seteth took a deep breath, and allowed himself to feast his eyes, following the example set by the academy teacher. He felt bashful and wanted to look away to collect himself, but forced himself to keep his eyes on the prize. And oh, _ what a prize _. His breath was shaky, all of his body feeling like it was on fire. 

All this time the professor looked back at him, Seteth felt the determined eyes on him, reading him. He wasn't sure what there was to read besides 'I'm really horny' but if it pleased his partner, who was he to complain? On the contrary, Byleth could read him all he wanted. And to be quite honest, the saint enjoyed that too. He enjoyed all of this, so much. 

Finally the shorter of them reached to the bottle he had asked Seteth to retrieve, and let some of the oily substance fall on his fingers. He rubbed his fingers together to thoroughly coat them and warm the lube a bit. 

"'Mere", he spoke, half of his sentence lost somewhere along the way, making him sound bossier than he would have if all syllables were heard. 

But the bossiness was something Seteth adored as it turned out, and as he got closer to the man giving orders, his stomach felt like it was filled with butterflies. 

He knew the connotations following the command combined with the slickened fingers, and he let out a shaky breath. "I am prepared", he said, to let his partner know the shakiness was from anticipation, not fear. Oh no, he wasn't afraid, he was _ ecstatic _, filled with excitement, want, hunger. He wanted this, so much. 

And not long after, preparations were underway. One of Byleth's lubricated fingers gently entered his lover, who was trying to stay relaxed, and not make the professor’s task more difficult than it needed be. Slowly the lone finger made its way upward, sliding in to the last knuckle. A shaky breath left Seteth's lips, as exploration of his behind was underway. 

Then the professor's slender index finger started thrusting slowly, but determined. The assistant moaned quietly, and the finger moved slightly from side to side. Seteth leaned his head slightly back, sighing. The index finger near his entrance was then joined by another, and together the slowly climbed up for a small distance, gradually picking up the pace as another, this time louder, moan filled the air.

"Byleth", the saint sighed, lustful, welcoming, the single utterance of his partner's name urging the man to continue. 

So he thrusted up, then back and forth and side to side, sometimes making scissoring motions, hoping to ease the entering of a somewhat thicker object sometime after this. And all this time the taller man was moaning quietly, body shaking ever so slightly.

As the fingers left him, he let out a whine at the sudden emptiness, sounding perhaps a bit too disappointed for his own liking. After all, this just meant something even better was ahead, so why did he wallow so?

Then it was time to get Byleth’s member ready before they could move on to the main act of the evening.

The saint looked at his lover through half-lidded eyes. His voice was husky, hungry, as he spoke a question. "Can I do it… for you?" 

The professor gasped, the request unexpected but… exciting, very much welcome. 

"Yes", Byleth groaned. His guest took the bottle in his hands now, spreading the lube on one of his hands, warming it somewhat, but too eager to do so for long. 

Seteth reached his slickened hand to touch his companion's dick, and a shaky moan told him the wait had been much too long, not just for him but his partner as well. Trying to keep his own breathing steady, he started moving his hand, spreading the lubricant around, also using the opportunity to touch the slightly intimidating body part that would soon enter his own body. 

The professor moaned with each new stroke, and bucked his hips against the touch. He let out a shaky sigh when his lover's grip loosened and hand moved away, leaving the professor's cock throbbing, wanting more.

Preparations finished, the shorter man repositioned himself on the bed, making himself comfortable. When he looked at the holy man with expecting eyes, the latter started positioning himself. 

His legs on either side of Byleth, Seteth sat down on his companion's stomach, the erect, slicked dick of the rebellion's leader behind him, pressed between his asscheeks. He could feel it hot and throbbing against his skin. 

The dark haired man placed one more kiss on his partner's lips, and then took a deep breath. He lifted himself with his thigh muscles and moved his hand back to spread himself, while the man underneath placed took firm hold of his hard shaft, lining it up with Seteth's entrance.

The saint could feel his heart beating quickly, as if his chest were about to burst. However, the sound of both men's heavy breathing was louder.  


Once the tip pressed in, the rest was a rather smooth slide, Seteth gliding down until the professor's cock was buried in him to the hilt, his rear touching the thighs of the man underneath him. His mouth fell open, eyes screwed shut as soft moans escaped his throat, greeted by the same sounds from underneath him.

Holding still for a bit while adjusting to the length inside him, a completely new feeling at that, the seasoned wyvern rider opened his eyes to view his new steed, and was met with half-lidded eyes and a gaze full of lust, full of eagerness. Byleth was panting heavily as he stared at the beautiful man on top of him. 

The assistant moved his hips slowly, trying to find the best angle, shaky moans singing a duet, of mutual desire and pleasure. 

The best angle now found, the saint rocked his hips, slow, testing, questioning, an answer soon found as a loud whine escaped his mouth.

"Seteth!" the man underneath cried out and leaned his head backwards, eyes shut. 

Eager to hear his name in such a tone once more, the older man moved once more, now faster, the arc of his hip movement now longer, but this time if it was his turn to cry out a name.

"Byleth!" he cried out, a wave of incredible pleasure shaking him, as Byleth's cock slammed against a certain spot in him that had him throwing his head back. Oh, this was better than he had ever imagined, tenfold. He had to pause for a while to soak it all in, and regulate his breathing. 

"M-my apologies", he began, out of breath, intending to note how slow he was taking it, but his partner shook his head, a smile on his lips. 

"We have all the time in the world", the professor mused, his breathing shaky and uneven. 

The shorter man reached towards his companion and stroked his sides gently. "I'm really enjoying myself", he mused, a smile on his lips, gaze wandering around the holy man’s beautiful nude form. He then looked up at his bearded face and chuckled. The movement made the older man shiver. "But I think you already knew that."

The wyvern rider turned professor rider responded with a chuckle of his own, and gently stroked his new mount's chest. "Yes. And so am I."

His hands still on his partner's chest for leverage, Seteth moved his hips again. He threw his head back, eyes shut, and rocked his hips up and down again. And again. Moans no longer really in his control emitted from his throat, as he repeated the motion, searching for the best arc to hit that sweet, sweet pleasure spot, again, again, and again.

"Ohh, yes! Byleth!" the saint cried out, his pleasure obvious, breathing erratic, and motions more firm and rhythmic, as he set up a pace he liked. 

His steed arched his back, moaning out his own pleasure as well, the hands on the rider's hips sinking into the soft flesh, claws leaving their mark as they dug into the skin. 

They found a rhythm together, the saint rocking himself to and fro, the professor bucking his hips, and thrusting up into the right beat, both moaning and whining with the occasional call by one another’s name, alongside enthusiastic, ecstatic "there" and "yes" littered here and there. There might have been an occasional cuss as well every now and then. 

Both sweaty, they went on for quite a while, enjoying every moment of it. At some point the professor lifted himself up and slid his hands underneath Seteth's arms to embrace him, and in response got strong hands placed over his shoulders, one hand, still slightly slick from oil, touching his back, the other tangling in his hair. 

Now their faces close to each other, their hot breaths landed on each other's faces and necks, and their eyes met. Both men with their eyes half-lidded, their now locked gazes intense, hungry, the only things that mattered being then and there and each other. The sounds of their heavy breathing, their hands on each other's bodies, the shared warmth of their bodies, their limbs entwined. 

Seteth wrapped his legs around his partner now, and in doing so allowed Byleth's cock to slide even deeper in him . He pulled on the professors hair slightly as he let out a loud moan, followed by a breathy stutter. "F-fuck, oh Byleth, th-this…" The saint spent a moment collecting his thoughts. "This feels so good! C-continue, please!" 

His voice sounded like he was on the brink of crying, and all that he said made the bearer of the Crest of Flames respond with a low groan as his body shuddered. 

They began moving their hips again, cautiously, unsure of how this change of postures affected their motions. They found out soon enough, Seteth with the even more intense thrusts over his prostate, Byleth with the now endless stream of desperate whines and moans his lover rewarded him with. 

Seteth’s movements stilled, as the pleasure was too grand to keep moving, and he just wanted to enjoy it, relish in it. The continued, relentless thrusting let him know this was something he was allowed, the man inside him taking full control.

"Yes!" the older man cried out. "Yes, fuck!" His muscles started twitching, and the pitch of his voice climbed higher than he'd thought possible. The holy man started chanting his partner's name, not unlike a prayer. His grip on the light green hair tightened almost painfully, and his fingernails dug into his lover's back, leaving long, red marks on his skin already adorned with battle scars. 

The saint could feel his own dick twitching, pressed hot between them. He could also feel the dick inside him do very similar motions, all while rubbing against the place that made him forget where they were, or that there ever was anything else other than the two of them, sharing each other, sharing this moment. His member rubbing against the stomach of his beloved, soon ready to burst from the friction alone, without needing to be touched by hand. 

What finally sent Seteth over the edge, was no other than a combination of certain sounds, uttered by his companion, said so casually, among the moans and whines.

_"Cichol!"_

The taller man tilted his head backwards, his eyes closed, mouth open, a shaky, perhaps surprisingly quiet, yet long moan emitting from his throat. His muscles were spasming, body shaking, his head spinning, the nails of one hand digging into the professors back, while the other pulled his light green hair, harder than he had pulled before. Seteth was seeing stars as something warm and sticky splattered all over their sweaty upper bodies.

Through all this, the assistant could hear a now very familiar voice cry out his own pleasure, in a long, shaky whimper, and his own shaking was accompanied by the man underneath him twitching as well. He could feel something warm spilling inside him, something physical, as well as something intangible, a feeling, taking root somewhere deep. 

They stayed like this for a while, limbs tangled, covered in sweat and… other substances, holding each other, both trying to steady their shaky breaths, breathing in each others' scents. 

"Byleth… I…" Seteth began, breaking the silence, drawing in a shaky breath, but was interrupted. 

"I– my apologies, Seteth", the younger spoke, "I didn't mean to call out…" 

"…My old name."

The professor had been avoiding looking at his lover's face, but now looked right at him, eyes wide. He stared at Seteth’s eyes for a while in silence, blinked and then started giggling.

"So that's what it takes for you to admit it, huh?" Byleth said, amusement clear in his voice.

Seteth couldn't help but join the laughter of his companion. "Well, not just anyone gets to see me like this, after all." He looked at the man in his arms with a warm, soft smile, eyes half-lidded, a new flush on his cheeks. 

Byleth seemed to be blushing as well. "Well I'm honored to be one of them", he mused, a soft smile mirroring the one on his partner's face, and leaned closer to plant a gentle kiss on those lips that a while back were shouting his name. "Hopefully, the _ only _ one." 

“R-really?” the saint responded in a faint voice, almost a whisper. He was shocked to hear the professor say something so… unexpectedly possessive.

He furrowed his brow, the thought from earlier again setting the overthinking in motion. He had to ask now, or it would continue to bother him. 

“It is surprising to hear you say such a thing, given you had, hmm”, he raised an eyebrow, “a peculiar assistance so readily available.” 

His cheeks were burning, his heart pounding in his chest. Oh no, what if he sounded accusatory? 

The professor was avoiding his eyes, a bashful look on his face, his lips in a nervous smile, cheeks glowing red. “A-ah, that…” He let out a nervous laughter. 

“Y-you see, it… it gets…” Byleth closed his eyes, sighed, and looked at his beloved again, piercing eyes sincere, perhaps grateful to lift a weight from his shoulders, as he had someone to listen.

“It gets lonely”, the response was not at all what Seteth had expected. 

“I was under the impression that half the monastery was after you”, the saint sputtered. 

A bashful chuckle greeted him. “Maybe so”, the man in his embrace begun, “but in all honesty, I would feel weird dating a student, even after all these years.” A gentle smile on his lips, something akin to what Seteth looked like when talking about Flayn. “They’re like children to me – my children.” 

Adorable. Simply _ adorable _. Hearing the professor speak with such fondness of his former students filled the single father’s heart with joy. 

“And well, I thought there weren’t that many available adults among the staff, either emotionally or in general”, Byleth explained further, a smirk on his lips again. “I’m glad I was wrong.” 

Seteth’s heart fluttered. There was one more question he had to get out. “Then how did you know…” He paused to collect his thoughts. “How did you know so well what to do?” There had to be more to this, hasn’t there? 

The younger man looked away flustered and mumbled: “Well, I… Actually I’ve just read a bunch of literature…” 

The saint blinked. “You… Was I…?” His head was spinning. “Was I you first…?” He wasn’t able to finish the sentence, the words stuck in his throat, as the realization flew over him, and his cheeks and ears were once again on fire.

And to make matters worse, the professor finally met his gaze and nodded his head, that bashful look on it still.

Seteth was sure his heart would explode, but instead he settled in hungrily kissing his beloved, the hunger this time romantic instead of sexual.   


Without breaking the kiss, the two men laid down on the bed, on their sides, the professor's wounded leg the upper one, so the healthy leg wouldn't press the hurt. 

Their limbs entangled once more, and when they broke off the kiss, they looked longingly into each other’s eyes for a good while. 

"Thank you, Seteth", the professor began, "for carrying me. And for the tea." The room was dim, but Seteth could clearly see the red decorating his lover's cheeks. He giggled. “And for… letting me fuck you stupid. I really enjoyed all of it." 

How in the world did this… inexperienced little sprout, this "innocent" _ gremlin _, say something like that so casually? The saint was in shock, in awe. He really was something else, this leader of theirs.

Seteth placed a gentle kiss on the professor's, _ his _ professor's lips. "Perhaps we should thank the bandits", he jested. "Who knows if we would be like this without them."

The rebellion's leader placed his hand on his lover's cheek and caressed it. "Perhaps", he mused, and leaned his forehead against Seteth's.

"Do you… mind if I call you Cichol again?" Shivers ran down the saint's spine. "Only when we're alone, of course."

"Please, by all means", the man of two names responded. Then, hesitated. Calculated. Finally, he decided to take the leap. 

"Byleth. I… I think I…" He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and continued after opening his green eyes once more, looking directly at the man across him. His ears and cheeks were on fire once again. His voice was little more than a whisper. "I think I may be falling for you."

The professor was clearly taken by surprise, his eyes wide, and what now what seemed like his whole face glowing red. "D-Do you mean it?" he sputtered, voice breaking ever so slightly. 

Despite all the time they had spent together, this reaction was so far from the usual Seteth was not able to read the nuances and tell what his friend was thinking.

"I do", he confirmed, now having it off his chest, no hint of doubt left in him. This was make it or break it, with things quite possibly changing drastically between the two from here on out. But no matter the outcome, he was glad he said it. A truth that would have been heavy to carry and hide, after all they shared today.

"Seteth… _ Cichol_…" the professor muttered, in a voice full of fondness that sounded out of breath. 

And the saint got his answer as the professor's lips pressed against his own and his body pulled closer to the former. 

He was happy. And he couldn't care less if someone had heard the noises from earlier. At least not right now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! This is the first (porn) fic I’ve released, so I’m screaming internally. 
> 
> I’m VERY invested in these dorks by now, so you can expect a fluff sequel at some point.


End file.
